


Plastic Flowers

by FireFaceOutlook



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dusttale Sans (Undertale), Horrortale Papyrus (Undertale), Horrortale Sans (Undertale), M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 13:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18941482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireFaceOutlook/pseuds/FireFaceOutlook
Summary: Dust didn't know when he closed his eyes, but he managed to peel one open again when he heard the click of a gun hammer being pulled back.  A human swam into view.  They looked young and scared, face pale and coated in a layer of sweat.  Their hands shook as they aimed their weapon at his skull.  He tried to say something, anything, but all that escaped between his teeth was a weak wheeze.  Their expression twisted into something resembling pity, and for just a second, he thought he'd literally dodged a bullet.  Then they pulled the trigger and his eye lights guttered out as he went limp.





	Plastic Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: Important note(s) – The underground extended much further than just beneath Mt. Ebott.**   
>  **\- There were plenty of monsters left aboveground after the barrier was put into place, but they went into hiding or fled to parts of the world that were still accepting of monsters.**   
>  **\- As a result of that ^^, with plenty of oxygen and space to grow, most surface monsters grew to be much larger than their underground brethren. (*cough*baras*cough*)**   
>  **\- Underground monsters remained “compact” to take up less space, oxygen, food, etc.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Horror!Sans – Axe(l), 6'10''**  
>  **Murder!Sans – Dust(y), 4'8''**  
>  **Horror!Papyrus – Rus(sel), 8'0''**

Dust was thrown into the waking world when he collided with the ground hard enough to cause a sharp pain in his clavicle that would've been concerning had his head not been spinning wildly. He groaned weakly, body reacting slowly to his commands; he'd barely managed to prop himself onto his elbows before a boot landed on his spine, causing stars to flash in his peripheral as he was forced back to the dirt.

“Stay down,” an unfamiliar-yet-not voice hissed, and he stilled, unable to bite back a whimper as more pressure was added to his vertebrae, causing some to pop ominously. He laid motionless, his zygomatic bone pressed against the earth, even after his assailant lifted their leg. As they moved away, he tried to summon his magic, but found it frustratingly out of reach. He was forced to remain slumped in the dirt as more voices joined the first in a muted conversation a few feet away.

“Well, get on with it,” the man from before said, and someone else approached. “Finish this monster, and your initiation will be over.”

Dust didn't know when he closed his eyes, but he managed to peel one open again when he heard the click of a gun hammer being pulled back. A human swam into view. They looked young and scared, face pale and coated in a layer of sweat. Their hands shook as they aimed their weapon at his skull. He tried to say something, anything, but all that escaped between his teeth was a weak wheeze. Their expression twisted into something resembling pity, and for just a second, he thought he'd literally dodged a bullet. Then they pulled the trigger and his eye lights guttered out as he went limp.

There was a high-pitched ringing bouncing from one side of his skull to the other, almost drowning out the retreating footsteps crunching over gravel and the screech of tires fading into the distance. Dust felt lightheaded, like he was both no longer tethered to the earth, yet his body felt as if it were being weighed down by more than gravity. He tried to move, tried to get up again, but nearly blacked out at the pain radiating from his scapula, where the bullet had passed through, and his chest; it somehow missed his ribs on its way through, but it'd skimmed his soul – exposed in response to the perceived threat, preparing for a **FIGHT** – before embedding in the center of his sternum. He wouldn't be surprised if dust had begun flaking off of him – the humans probably thought he was as good as dead. Even _he_ wasn't sure if he'd be able to survive, not without receiving medical help soon, and how the _Hell_ was that going to happen when he was presumably in the middle of nowhere?

As he laid there, the pain dulled down to every-few-seconds-interval throbs, and as the haze began to clear from his mind, he felt a concerning amount of marrow soaking through his clothes and pooling around his bare bones. Not long after, he began shivering, though he couldn't really tell if it was because it was cold or something else entirely. 

_*shock?_ He tried to recall the half-assed medical lessons drilled into his head so long ago, but they remained outside his grasp, just as his magic had. 

His soul's pulse turned sluggish as his consciousness slipped through his fingers.

_*at least when i bite the dust this time, i won't be awake for it._

  


Dust was roused by a beam of sunlight shining right into his eyes. Unfortunately, that wasn't an uncommon occurrence, and he slurred out a few curses towards his roommate as he tried to turn away and return to his dreamless (for once) sleep. _Tried_ being the key word, because as soon as he rolled his shoulder to switch onto his side, pain slugged the breath from his pseudolungs. He arched, clutching at the nearest of multiple sources of agony, which happened to be his sternum; it was wrapped in what felt like clothe, and beneath it, he could feel his soul pounding arrhythmically.

Then he remembered his last minutes of consciousness and his eyes flew open. He wasn't home; he was in an unfamiliar room, tucked into an unfamiliar bed. He struggled upright, every bone aching in a manner that had the magic in his left eye throbbing uncomfortably in time with his forming headache. He took stock of his body, noting that he wasn't missing any more bones than usual, but bandages bound his right arm and the entire top portion of his chest. His shirt and jacket were gone, but he still had his own shorts on. He leaned forward to peer out the window, and all he could see were plains of yellow and cornfields. He was reminded of the last movie night he'd partaken with his friends – a gory thriller that took place on a farm.

_*nope._ He swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting his hands to push himself up, though he had to rely almost entirely on his left. Once he was on his feet, he took a moment to wait for the sudden wave of dizziness to pass before he staggered towards the door. It wasn't entirely closed, so he eased it open further, wincing at the creaking of the hinges. He held his breath and leaned out the doorway, listening for any voices or footsteps – anything to indicate he wasn't alone.

Nothing.

He crept into the hallway, eye lights darting around to take in his surroundings. The house he found himself in appeared to be pretty old. The wallpaper was peeling from the walls, revealing splintering wood in some places, and there were some grooves in the floor, but the absence of natural dust made it clear that it was frequently inhabited. He spotted stairs further down the hall and made his way towards them, easing his way down using the rail to keep himself from tumbling headfirst to the lower floor. He crossed the sparse living area, beelining for the door, and he almost thought he'd gotten lucky with the homeowners being out.

He'd never been the fortunate sort.

“ _AXEL!_ ” a loud voice exploded from upstairs, making Dust jolt in a manner that refreshed the pain he'd been successfully ignoring until that point. “OUR GUEST HAS DISAPPEARED!”

Dust dove for the door, and just as his fingertips brushed the knob, he pulled his hand back as if scalded, barely avoiding being impaled by the sudden gate of broken, sharp-looking bones that appeared to be encrusted in _blood_. A sudden presence loomed over him, radiating an aura that made his soul wither in primal fear. He summoned a bone attack with a sharpened end almost on instinct, twisting to his right to face the newcomer and sending it flying towards them.

The skeleton monster, half-cast in shadows, caught the weapon mere centimeters from his engorged red eye light. He crushed Dust's magic as if it were nothing more than a dirt clod – a feat that should've been nigh impossible, considering his LV. When he crossed the distance between them, Dust found himself craning his neck up just to maintain eye contact – more out of defiance than actual desire. The skeleton proved to be larger and stockier than any other Dust had ever encountered – he maybe reached midway up the other's chest cavity. His clothes were stained with red and there was a jagged hole in his skull.

_*i'm about to die,_ Dust thought as a large hand landed on his undamaged shoulder, fingers encompassing its entirety and even covering a good portion of his shoulder joint, thumb brushing the top of his sternum.

Instead of squeezing Dust to, well, _dust_ , though, the skeleton tilted his head towards the upper floor.

“down here, rus,” he called.

Reluctantly drawn to the sound of rapid footsteps, Dust turned his attention to _yet another_ giant skeleton clambering down the stairs. This one was taller than he was wide, almost like a skeleton tree, ironically enough; owlishly-round glasses were taped to his face and braces overlayed his slightly-crooked teeth.

“OH THANK GOODNESS!” Rus rushed to join them, giving Dust a once-over as if to make sure he was still in one piece. “I Was So Worried When I Found The Bed Empty.” 

“yeah, wouldn't want to have found that he _pasta_ -way,” Axel (Dust assumed) added.

Rus' expression went from relieved to deadpan in an instant, giving his brother (Dust assumed once more) a judging stink eye. “I'll Hear No More Puns From You, Brother-” Score one for Dust. “-While Our Guest Resides In Our Home.”

“*guess i better _spaghetti_ outta here, then.” Dust just couldn't help himself, cursing when that brought their attention back to him.

“ _YOU'VE ALREADY CORRUPTED HIM!_ ” Rus shrieked in horror as Axel guffawed. “Sorry, Little One, But There Will be No 'Getting Out Of Here' Quite Yet, Make No Bones About It.”

Dust sputtered, trying to protest both the demeaning title and the refusal for his freedom, but Axel cut him off with a pat on the back that nearly sent him sprawling. 

“you're in no condition to be wandering on your own again.” _*again?_ “plus, your soul is in pretty rough shape, too.”

Dust had actually forgotten that his soul was exposed, and when he couldn't dismiss it – which meant it took more damage than he initially thought –, he just awkwardly cupped his hands over his chest, as if that would hide its purple glow. Neither Rus nor Axel looked particularly bothered by it, but Dust couldn't help but feel embarrassed anyway.

“guess our first priority should be getting you some clothes and changing your bandages. moving around like you did aggravated your wounds.”

Dust looked at his shoulder, and the new stains on the bandages, and finally registered the pain he'd been ignoring. “*oh...”

“I Shall Handle Those Tasks. Could You Make Our Guest- OH MY GOODNESS! I FORGOT TO INTRODUCE MYSELF!”

“*you don't have to-”

“I Am The Great Russel! But You, New Little Friend, May Call Me Rus.” Russel gestured broadly to his brother. “And This Pile Of Bones Is My Older Brother, Axel!”

“sup.” Axel raised a hand briefly before stuffing them both in his shorts pockets.

They both looked at him expectantly and he couldn't help but shrink back slightly. “*uh, my name's dusty. people just call me 'dust.'”

The brothers paused, unreadable expressions crossing their faces. Axel was the one to ask, “do you have another name?”

_"͞͡҉Ş͜͡A̸̷̧͝҉Ņ̷͘͠S̷̷̕͟?͏͟"͏̴̶͜͡_

“*no,” Dust replied flatly, eye lights dim. “*just dust.”

He missed their concerned glances over his head in the handful of seconds it took for him to shake himself free from his mind, but when he did, Axel was heading through a doorway that likely led to the rest of the first floor and Russel was guiding Dust to the stairs.

“Come, Dusty.” Dust raised a brow at that, only receiving a blinding grin in response. “I Shall Tend To Your Wounds And Find You Proper Attire While Axel Prepares Lunch.”

Sighing softly, Dust (temporarily) succumbed to his fate as he was assisted up the stairs, despite his complaints that he could do it on his own, and returned to the room he began his escape from.

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: Eventually there will be one-shots before and after this story takes place, too, to explore more of this AU and the other relevant characters that dwell within it.**
> 
>  
> 
> _prompt(s): there's a soft thump and a screeching of tires. someone's been dumped from a car that's speeding away, left on the curb nearly unconscious and shivering, covered in marks and wounds. what is the extent of the damage? who will find them? who hurt them? how aware are they?_ **[@friendlylocalwhumper]**  
>  +  
>  _Groaning, the whumpee lifts their head from the dirt and struggles to push themselves on their elbows, gritting their teeth as they start to stand._  
>  _The whumper stomps on their back, shoving them to the ground._  
>  _“Stay down,” the whumper hisses, and the whumpee stills, whimpering as their boot puts pressure on their already bruised back. They lay motionless, cheek pressed against the earth, even after the whumper lifts their leg._ **[@whumptopia]**  
>  \+ (eventually)  
>  _The name of your soulmate appears on your body only after that person falls in love with you._ **[@wlwprompts]**


End file.
